Category: Real Life


Hello again.

Life is…alright. 🙂

I’ve got a new job. I work with clothes now. Don’t really feel like naming it publicly, since, as always, I like to keep my job. I get paid more out on the floor than I ever made as a “manager” at walmart, so that’s nice. Work isn’t too hard except that my body is more than a little annoyed with me. My knees have been protesting, and my hand doesn’t like it when I make a pinching motion (or even turning on the screen on my phone due to it going to sleep). Like, I’m somewhat concerned about my hand, but I’m pretty sure it’s because of how I’ve been holding the hangers, and I hope that will help it, at least a little.

Some of you may remember me obsessing about wanting to join roller derby? Well, I’ve gone and signed up for a fresh meat class. There might be a minor hitch the plans, but if so, it’ll all be fixed by the next time they offer the class (which is necessary before you can try to join the league!) I’m going to buy skates for it on Tuesday. I have skates, but apparently they are ill suited for derby, the least of it being they are high top and the ankles need to be able to move freely. Only problem is, skate shop is up in Nashua, which is a state over. Only about an hour away though. And maybe I’ll make a day of it by going to the indoor sky diving place that is literally right down the street from where the skate shop is (I probably won’t, shhh)

Funny story. I’ve been to the indoor sky diving place before. Lots of fun. Most recently, I actually saw skate shop as we were leaving. I saw the name, and wondered what in the world was sold there. And now here I am, actually making a trip specifically to go to said store. But seriously, it’s literally right down the street. I was amazed. I can probably see sky  diving place from skate shop, and vice versa.

But oh, if only I didn’t have to go there. But the gear needs to actually fit, class starts a week from Wednesday, returns would take forever, and there’s no sizing chart on the website. But I should get it from them, because they do a special deal with “fresh meat”.

OH MY GOD I’M SO EXCITED THIS MIGHT ACTUALLY FINALLY BE HAPPENING!!! And the best part is, when I tell people, they don’t expect little ol’ me to even WANT to do roller derby.

Other than that, things are things. The holidays went well, if awkwardly. Still mostly not talking to my mom, this mostly on her side this time for reasons I can’t even begin to fathom (seriously, I have no idea). Survived Nemo, and might post some ridiculous pictures soon. And….that’s it. I work. I come home. I watch bad tv shows. I sleep. Repeat. Sometimes something cool happens. Not that interesting. 🙂

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Resume flailing…

So, I’m trying to get an “adult job”. I’m tired of all the retail BS. I mean, it’s a job, but even if I was working 40 hours a week at walmart (which they wouldn’t allow, and I didn’t want anyways…I hated my life enough with the 30-something hours I got…) I wouldn’t have been able to afford an apartment once you add in things like utilities, and food, and such….like, that’s a studio with just me. I mean, if it got bumped up to a one bedroom, and boyfriend contributed….we’d still be kinda close to not being able to make it (because with boyfriend comes car insurance and gas and car maintenance…..). Nevermind trying to afford a car of my own (we’re lucky boyfriend and I got jobs so close, otherwise I’m not sure how well things would have worked…my short-lived job at the mall was hellish trying to figure out transportation, especially considering that the bus in this town can’t be depended on, and actually screwed me out of a job interview….) or anything like that…

So, I posted a mopey facebook post about wanting an undo button for life, because I was just so darn mopey about my situation. And a friend of mine checked in, because I’m not that prone to posting sad facebook messages (angry, I do very very well, because I’m good at ranting…but sad, I don’t do too often…). Friend has a good job. Friend can “refer” me to another job in said company that I am actually potentially qualified for. Sweet.

But then I look at my reusme….the poor thing has seen better days. And I want to make a good impression, since I reflect upon friend. So I decide to remake my resume with a new template and make everything spifferific….

And then I get to the objective section.

The objective section makes no freaking sense to me. The objective is, obviously, to find a job, or I suppose get experience for an internship.  But you can’t write “my objective is to be as obedient as a wage slave as I need to be for you to give me a paycheck.” Well, you can, but I doubt you’d get hired. (Don’t give me that crap about finding a job I love. I don’t know of any job that consists of sitting around in my PJ’s all day and watching anime, playing video games, and being on tumblr. And I don’t really have the motivation to write for a living, nor, I think, the skill, as much as I love it) Employers know that most of the time, it’s about getting a job. I feel like it’s a sadistic trick….”Let’s make them lie really really well if they want this job. Let’s see who gets the most flowery”

As much as I hate online retail job applications in general, I think they have the right idea. Fill in the blanks with your info. I mean, sure, many of them have the option to upload your resume as well, but… it’s not necessary, and often, won’t reflect poorly on you if you don’t, because THEY ALREADY HAVE ALL OF YOUR INFORMATION! RESUME IS SUPERFLUOUS AT THAT POINT!

But I want this job. Really bad. I’m not going to get into specifics, but it’s really cool. Commute may kinda suck for a bit, but I have plans for that too.

I’m also trying to kick caffeine. I’ve currently got a headache that kills that I’ve had since yesterday, and I’m irritable as all get out. And there are handymen (boyfriend’s parents are on a home improvement kick) and they’re banging and painting and monopolizing both bathrooms and I really need to use one of them. Bah. Bad day for this. Oh well. I’m probably cranky enough that Andrew is gonna force some soda into me anyways >_<.

But I should really stop procrastinating. I should go work on that. Wish me luck.

My new phone!

Ah! I got a new phone!!

So, back in May or so, I finally broke down and bought for myself my first real “smart phone” (my sidekick back in the day doesn’t really count…) It was fun, but as time went on, it’s been having issues. Lots of issues. Rebooting in the middle of phone interviews and my contacts freaking crashing issues. I was not pleased. But, it was a fairly cheap phone, and I used it almost constantly, so I wasn’t surprised.

So for Christmas, I super upgraded. Google Nexus 4. 16 gb version.  Probably really bad timing on my part, for various reasons, but my old phone had become practically unusable (when your phone is a touch screen, it’s REALLY not good for the touch capability to stop working at random…) and I’d be way overpaying for service if I went with a non-smart phone.

So cool. I’ve had the phone since Thursday, but my sim just came in today. Playing around with it so much. 🙂

I’m so happy. I actually have a good phone. My old phone wasn’t “good”, even when I got it. And it does the cool “tap” thing that you see on the Galaxy S3 commercials for like…half the price. Boyfriend and his mom both have Galaxy S3 phones, so tapping with them will be fun. And my friend has the same phone, different size, so I can tap with him. Squee.

Now to go and teach it all my slang. It took forever for the old one to learn it, so might as well get a head start now….

(and for those people who actually know me, it’s the same number. Not the New Hampshire one. The Massachusetts one. Let me know about any questions…)

So, going to the bathroom in my high school was a Very Serious Issue. You see, at any given time, there were only half or so of the bathrooms open. You found out which ones were open by finding the bathroom monitor, which were teachers who were assigned to sit at a table outside the bathroom. You went there, you signed in, with the time you got there, did your business, signed out with the time you left, and went back to class. (What was done with the forms? I don’t know. It kinda creeps me out to imagine them all filed away somewhere in the office…)

Sometimes you’d get overzealous bathroom monitors, or teachers. You see, the bathroom monitor had to sign your pass back to class. But if you took too long either to get to the bathroom, or were in the bathroom too long, they wouldn’t sign it (this only happened once the entire time I was there, when I had to poo during third period, but some other people I knew it happened to rather frequently until they figured out they could avoid those ones by going to another floor, because they were tired of being penalized for having class on the opposite side of the building). And in some classes, not getting the pass signed could mean detention, because the  teacher would check, and assume you hadn’t gone to the bathroom instead. (Some teachers were very suspicious of the students. They would call the nurse and ask “What (name) there last period?” because them puking in class could have just been a ploy to get out of class. Yes, I kid you not, there was a teacher who did this)

That, in and of itself, was annoying enough. I mean, first you force me to come to this place almost every day, and then you proceed to treat me like a criminal, and tell me I took too long pooping so you’re not going to sign my slip and get me a detention, which makes me stay at this place even longer? But it got worse than that. Two specific incidents come to mind…

Supposedly, there was a gang problem at my high school. I say supposedly, because I never actually say any evidence besides teenagers being teenagers and boasting that they were a gang. And supposedly, there was one called the Red Shirt Fraternity. And they are why I got sent to my administrator by a bathroom monitor.

It was a Thursday. It was my first, maybe second week of school. It’s at some point before lunch, because I was wondering if I would be able to find my new friends at lunch that day. I had to use the bathroom. As I’m signing in, the bathroom monitor goes, “What do you think you’re doing, wearing that?”

I look down with alarm at my clothing. I was confused, and had no idea what she was talking about. I knew the dress code was different, but all I was wearing was a red t-shirt that covered everything, a pair of jeans, and some sneakers. I looked confusedly at her. Apparently that constituted giving her attitude, and I was escorted down to the administrator.

I was so confused and worried. What had I done that landed me in the administrator’s office already? Was I going to be a “bad kid” at my new school?

The administrator called me in to his office. When he asked, I honestly told him I had no idea why I was brought there. He mentioned that I should know not to wear red shirts on Thursday, because it was a “gang sign” and no “gang signs” were allowed in the school. I quickly assured him that I had no idea of that, and that it was only my second week in this school and how there was nothing about red shirts in the dress code, and that I had studied it to make sure I wouldn’t get in trouble because the dress code was so different than the other school I had been to. He believed me, and let me go, with a warning to “never wear red on a Thursday again!”
(the funny thing is, unintentionally, I did a few other times, later on during my time there. No one said anything. Funny how arbitrary things are…)

Another time, it was near the beginning of the school year. I had on a pair of boy-shorts, because due to the restrictions on length of shorts and my disproportionately long at the time legs, no pairs of girl shorts fit me at the time, and a somewhat baggy t-shirt. However, I had long flowing hair to my shoulders, and that was my normal fashion those days, so I thought nothing of it.

Went to go to the girl’s bathroom. “That’s the wrong door..” the monitor said. I look up, to make sure it’s the lady’s room. Try to go in the bathroom again. “I said that’s the wrong door!” she replied. I turned around, yelled at the top of my lungs, “I’M A GIRL!!!!!” and stormed into the bathroom. She apologized to me on my way out, but after seeing me look at the sign, and then continue to try to go in, you’d think she got the picture. I made sure that I was going into the right door. No need to push your preconceived ideas of how a boy or a girl should look like on me.

There was a point to this post, originally. I forget now. I’m just going to chalk it up as a random “experiences in the life of a Momo” post.

I feel like telling you all a story from when I was younger….

I went to two high schools. The first one’s dress code was “as long as it doesn’t create a disturbance in class”.

I verified this with all the administrators I had come across. This was the policy. No matter what, if it didn’t cause a disturbance in the classroom, it was okay.

So one day, I decided to wear a thong on the outside of my pants. You see, the “trend” at the time was for girls to wear low-cut jeans with their thongs sticking out. I personally thought it looked silly, so I figured I’d do something equally silly to comment on it.

All was well, until 7th period. You see, between periods, and during study hall and lunch, I got a few questions, but in the actually classes, no one said anything. So I was still within policy, although only by a bit. And then the teacher told me that it was inappropriate and that I needed to take my thong off.

“But I’m not breaking any rules. It hasn’t caused any disturbances in any classes, and your class hadn’t even started! And anyways, why is my outfit any worse than hers? The only difference between my outfit and her outfit is a few inches of pants and the placement of the thong!” I said, pointing to the girl next to me. (She was actually pretty nice, if I remember correctly. She later told me she didn’t agree with the teacher making me take it off)

She then proceeded to spin some sort of excuse that teachers are allowed discretion over dress code policies and that was why she was allowed to not let students wear hats in her class and so I needed to go and take the thong off NOW or there would be consequences.

I wish I could live that day over again, just so that I could stand my ground against her. Argue with her. Dare her to do something.

But I was only 14, and a very meek 14-year-old at that. So I went to the bathroom and took off the thong.

But, I did not let her win completely. I took her at her word, that it was a her classroom rule, and put on the thong on the way to the next class.

Apparently, one of my classmates didn’t like this, and went back and told her. Not even five minutes into the next class, the teacher from the previous class showed up, and told the other teacher that he needed to tell me to take it off because she had told me to take it off and it was inappropriate.

I was almost worth it to see the teacher say it. He was this quiet, mild-mannered, white-haired old man.

“Momo (except he used the name I went by then), are you wearing something that (mean lady teacher from previous period) told you not to wear?” She was standing there next to him, glaring at me.

I sensed the opportunity here. “YOU MEAN MY THONG?!” I cried, standing up, drawing obvious attention to it. I felt almost bad for the guy, it wasn’t his fault, but if I was asked to take the thong off again, I was going to make sure as hell I at least made it violate dress code before I did it.

He went red, and didn’t really address what I said. “You need to go to the ladies room and remove that….”

“Oh no need for me missing class. I’ll do it right here!” And I started trying to take the thong off.

“No! Nonono! In the ladies room!” he stammered.

I felt as though my point had been made well enough, and so I walked out of the room, staring the mean teacher in the eye as I left. I later apologized to the kindly old teacher, explaining that I had reacted as I had because, up until that point, had no fuss made while in a class due to my outfit, and that I was being unfairly targeted. He said that he understood my point, but he didn’t want to undermine the other teacher’s authority or something like that.

Then, in the next school I went to, I got in trouble for wearing red on the wrong day. But that’s a long story, for another post….

Pokemon

Boyfriend and I have been playing Pokemon a whole bunch recently. Why? Because we’re ridiculous…

But it made me want to talk about when I first got my gameboy and my first Pokemon cartridge.

My first inkling of pokemon came from a friend I had named Mike. He was super into video games, and got Nintendo Power magazine in the mail. He would show me all about it, and tell me that I needed to get this game, and to make sure I got blue version, because he was getting red version, and how it was going to be all sorts of fun, and he’d catch these pokemon and trade for these other pokemon and it’d be great.

I went and told my mom that those two things were my christmas list. My ENTIRE christmas list.

I remember how sad I was the day when I was told they didn’t think they’d be able to get it for me.

A week or two later, I was asked if I would mind spending my christmas money on getting the game if they bought me the gameboy. My mood perked up, because at that point, I’d do anything to play it. I said, “Of course!”

Now, I feel the need to add here, that I’m not quite sure exactly why I was so excited about this game. I played video games at the time, but I wouldn’t have really considered myself a gamer. Hell, I was still playing a NES most of the time, although, I think by that point, I may have had a N64 at my grandma’s house. All I remember is my friend telling me it was gonna be super cool, him telling me it was almost like a cult or religion or something in Japan, and that I really really really wanted that game. I’m sure there must have been some other reason why, because even as a foolish child (I was 10), there must have been something else going on to make me want that game so bad.

I remember that Christmas morning. I remember opening the gameboy, and being super excited. Not only was it a gameboy color (I believe I had stated at one point that even one of the older ones would work as long as it would play pokemon), but it was one of the clear ones, just like I had wanted. I thought it was so cool you could see all the stuff inside of it. It added a cool factor to the whole thing, I thought. But due to the question I had been asked earlier, I had kinda been expecting it….

And then I remember opening the next present.

And it was Pokemon Blue.

It was the right version of the game I had been dreaming about for months. Even if it had been red, I would have been stoked, but it was blue.

If I remember correctly, I kinda lost my shit. Jumping up and down in happiness, crying happy tears, hugs all around and a million “Thank you!”s. I might have exaggerated it in my head, but I remember just being so very very happy about it.

I immediately opened them both up, ripping the boxes to hell in my impatience to get in there. I remember thinking how small the game was, in comparison to the box. And then I never looked back.

Apparently, there was an option during Christmas that year. Get a gameboy, or get a cable box so that the TV in your room will be able to get cable. I chose the gameboy.

I only remember this because a while later, my grandpa asked me if I regretted getting the gameboy yet. And I said no. And he asked, “What will you get more use out of? A cable box, or that stupid gameboy?” And I replied, “The gameboy!” Mind you, I was still playing that game, while I was talking to him.

It was the truth. I got so much use out of that gameboy. Not only did I play blue version on there, but also yellow version, and gold AND silver. I logged so many hours on each of those games, not stopping with one until the next one came out. And with the exception of a gameboy advance that my boyfriend gave to me but a roomie stole a month later so it wasn’t even really mine for that long, it’s the only gameboy I’ve owned to this day. My little siblings have played with it too. I still have it, and bust it out every so often when I’m in the mood for some “retro” pokemon. Because as cool as emulators are, there’s something magical about going back and playing them on that gameboy.

It’s probably just the nostalgia talking, but it feels like childhood.

Work rantings

So, life has been…alright, I guess?

This post is going to be a rant about my night at work last night. I am still very grumpy about it, so keep that in mind. Also, in case you’re worried, I’ll be fine, I’m just going to need to get more ways to vent out rage and frustration, otherwise I’m going to go off on one of my underlings, which is rather frowned upon. So yeah, don’t view this as serious, view this as venting.

Got that promotion. Been thinking maybe it wasn’t such a good idea. Mainly because you get yelled at by both management and customers for not doing the impossible. But I’m stuck with it for the next six months, unless I quit or get fired, so I gotta suck it up and deal with it, I suppose…

I closed for the first time last night. Gosh. It was…quite the experience.

First, the last cart pusher left at five. And then the only person in the building that could push carts well that wasn’t one of my cashiers was outright refusing to help me, until one of the higher level managers told him to knock it off and suck it up, essentially. But if she hadn’t, I would have either had to push carts and constantly run back and forth to deal with cashier issues, or taken one of the cashiers off the register to do it, which I couldn’t do because we were in the middle of a rush and I’m not supposed to take register when I’m the only one on.

And then there was the almost constant stream of people picking up online orders which I had to deal with because the guy who is supposed to take care of that was too busy dealing with other things. Which I understand, but why does he get away with it but when I’m too busy to have gotten something done, it’s no excuse. Argh.

And to top it all off, the only person we had to do customer service (due to scheduling errors) was a guy who is usually a cashier but is being trained for customer service. And he would page me literally. Every. Five. Minutes. And then argue with me when I have him his answer. Seriously? If he keeps it up, I’m just going to report him for insubordination. I don’t mind clarifying questions or anything. But when he outright refuses, and tries to tell me how to do my job when he barely even knows how to do his job….and, mind you, I’ve noticed that he only does it to female managers. I end up looking at him, saying “I don’t care, just do it!” and walking away. I’m so done with him, I’m so glad he’s not going to be there tonight, or if he is, he’ll be at register, meaning he can’t literally YELL into the walkie every five minutes and then if I don’t immediately respond and come there he’ll repeatedly page (even when I say “hold on a minute, I’m helping a customer, I’ll be there in just a minute!” if I’m not there in 30 seconds he calls again!). Just…argh.

And while all this constantly paging goes on, an assistant manager laughs at me as I’m walking by, with the words “Needy little guy isn’t he?”. Seriously? Don’t you have some work to be doing, instead of laughing at the lower managers?

And also, I was working on closing the outlying registers. Which, yanno, need to get done before the store closes, excuses of too busy not allowed. So he was seriously screwing that up.

And then there’s the girl that took over a half an hour for her 15 minute break and was found by another manager eating unhurriedly in the break room. And then when she was told, by a manager that’s above me, hey, it’s way past time for you to be back up front, you’re holding up so-and-so’s break…she still took about 15 minutes getting back to the front. And then there’s the guy who I went looking for because I had sent him to do this thing that only takes maybe 10 minutes and he had been gone for a half an hour. In the training room, texting. And then he called me angrily many times at the end of the night because there was no one at the register next to him. Sorry, don’t have enough people, no one else who is on has someone next to them, suck it up and deal with it.

And then there was the guy who said he was going to report us to the BBB because he had to wait a minute to get someone to help him in the area (guy was at lunch), and the guy was supposedly “rude”. And that he was going to make sure to name me in his report because “you’re the manager!” Excuse me, I have no power over anyone at all but my cashiers, and even then…..it’s iffy. There are some that like to push the line about being “insubordinate”. Anyone in any other section of the store? If I tell them to do something, they can tell me to fuck off, and would only get in trouble for the language if a customer complained. Mentioning my name will get you nothing.

And then there were the customers yelling at me about the lines. Trust me, I’m aware of them. They don’t give me enough cashiers because they don’t want to pay them, even though it’s screwing you, the customer, over. But I’m not allowed to tell you that. I have to sit there while you call me every foul name in the book because I’ve tried to page overhead for people to come up but no one does and people have called out and they didn’t schedule enough people even if everyone showed up. And apologize. Even though I want to tell you what a fucking entitled asshat you’re being and that if you don’t like it you don’t have to shop here. Argh, rage.

So glad that other manager lady came in a few minutes earlier to help me. She was doing an overnight, to help for other things, but she agreed to clock in early yesterday and today to help me since it was my first nights closing by myself.

So, let me explain to you another story about paging dude, because I am annoyed, and it explains the kind of stuff he does. For simplicity, I’ll label him P. For reference, it was during the middle of a rush the day before easter. We were packed, we had three managers of the same rank as me in, and the manager over us told us to get on register and he would take care of our managing duties until it went down. Every register was open, lines down to who the hell knows where…..it was a RUSH. And all the managers wear walkies. And we have these little things that the cashiers can send us general messages on, like “I need the bathroom!” or, “I have a question!”
So, I’m at a register, obviously scanning away. I see him come over, and say “Hey, can’t help much right now, Manager is acting as manager, so I can’t really help..”
P: “No, it’s just a quick question…”
Me: Fine, what’s up?
P: The customer wants to buy this but it’s broken we can’t sell it right?
I look over, and I see it’s a thing of those plastic easter eggs. You know, the kind you put candy into? There’s a small slice in the side of the packaging, but it’s fairly tiny, and obviously not a big deal.
Me: Go ahead and sell it to the customer!
P: But it’s against the rules! (It isn’t. We can’t discount stuff past a certain point due to damage, but if the customer wants to buy it at that price, we can still sell it. And this customer wants to buy it full price. No issue)
Me: No, it’s not. Just sell it to them.
P: Can you call manager?
Me: My walkie is dead (which is mostly true. It was dying, and all my pages got all distorted)
P: No it’s not, I see it blinking! (He then proceeds to grab it. It’s hanging out of my back pocket. He seriously came within millimeters of touching my butt. Now I’m angry. Not only is he holding me up needlessly about something he shouldn’t even have to ask about, not only is he arguing with me, but now he’s almost touched my butt. I am NOT okay about this)
Me: **growling** It’s broken. Now go back to your register, and sell those eggs!
He goes back. And then I see on the little message thing that he sent that he had a question to Manager. I asked Manager about it later. It was the eggs. And he told him to sell them. And of course, he didn’t argue with Manager, no siree!

Ah, one of these days, I am going to crack and go off on either a customer or a cashier. And I will likely get fired, but it will be GLORIOUS, because it’s all going to come out. I will curse out each and every single one, besides the few that give me no troubles, and then I will never go back, and there will be happiness. The end.

RIP Little Lanfear

Little Lanfear was a fighter. I first thought she was going to die back in November. She had a huge tumor, and she had somehow cut it, and her sister and mom had just died….but she made it.
She even gnawed off the tumor a few times, while I wasn’t looking! Not that I could really stop her…she tended to do whatever it was she wanted to do, and no amount of trying to scare her would stop her. She was a complete badass.
Hell, less than a week ago, she was still kicking the asses of anyone who stole her peanuts. You see, mice really like peanuts, so we would give them peanuts as a treat sometimes. But mice aren’t too perceptive, and would often fight over a single peanut when there were many other peanuts in the nearby areas, or, more often, one would just grab the peanut out of the other’s mouth and try to walk away with it. Some mousies would let it go, but not Lanfear. She’d chase after that mousie and grab that peanut right back, and there was nothing that would stop her from getting that peanut back!
Even at the end she was a fighter…. she seemed to like the dark better than the light, so we had her under this little hidie thing (they like to hide under them when they sleep). She was barely able to move. When I woke up this morning (I tried to sit vigil with her, but there was a chance I was going to need to drive this morning, so I couldn’t) she had managed to crawl out from under there. She wanted to leave in the open air.
She was buried in a heart-shaped box this morning next to her sister and her mom. The ground was cold, but we managed to get down deep enough.
Goodbye Lanfear. You were my sniffler, always sniffling around, investigating everything, leaving no tube unexplored. You brought unmeasurable amounts of happiness to me, and I will forever miss you. You will never be able to be replaced. I love you Lanfear. Enjoy the mousie afterlife! ❤ ❤
Excuse me while I go lose my shit in an attempt to be ready for work today. Because I sure as hell am not going to be able to get through it in my current state.

The Mousie Afterlife

Once upon a time ago, I had two mice. Padawan and Asmodean (or Asmo, for short). Then Asmodean ended up being male, Padawan became a mother, and for a while, there was uncertainty about how I would take care for all the mousies.
Eventually, friends and family took care of some of them, and the other ones went to a pet store that sold pet mice and feed mice separate, and I ended up with six mice.
Padawan, Ghost, Lanfear, Bastilla, Crackmouse, and Arya.
Ghostie died one night unexpectedly. She had had a few seizures, but she hadn’t had one in over a month. We thought she had been doing better. We were quite upset.
Padawan died 24 hours later. Seriously. I came home from work, and was worried I was having dejavu, because I went to the mousie tank, like I always do, and she was laying in almost the exact same position,in almost the exact same part of the tank, almost exactly 24 hours after I had found Ghostie (I had gotten out of work the same time both nights). Padawan, however, had a big scary tumor, so her death wasn’t completely unexpected. However, she had seemed fine up until that day, so we had thought we’d have some more time with her.
It was hard to have two mice die within 24 hours of each other. Especially the ones that did. Padawan had been the mommy mouse, and I had had her the longest. And Ghostie had been the runt of the litter, and the only grey and white mousie out of both litters that Padawan had. She was my secret favorite. I would reach in and pet her, and she would let me pet her a few times before running away, unlike the other mice, who would like to bite me if I got too close. So Boyfriend and I made up a story. Either though neither of us is religious, or believes in an afterlife for humans, we made up a mousie afterlife. The mousie afterlife was a pretty sweet place for mouses. They could have all sorts of adventures they couldn’t have while they were alive, because now they didn’t have to worry about any sorts of predators or dying or anything. And we decided that our mice would be circumnavigating the world in a little mousie sized ship. And when a mousie died, they’d wake up on the ship. And instead of being upset about dying, they’d be happy to see their family members they hadn’t seen in a while. And they wouldn’t hurt anymore and be happy and no more tumors ever again.
I write about the mousie afterlife…because I fear that Lanfear will soon be joining them. She has barely moved since last night. She has trouble righting herself. She seems weak and…I just think she’s not long for this world. She’s had tumors, started having them soon after Padawan did, but while Padawan died quickly, Lanfear has been fine for a long time. Hell, she even chewed off her tumors once or twice when I wasn’t there to soothe her. I joked that she would outlive all the other mice, and hell, I half started to believe that myself. She was beast….but she’s taken a sharp turn downhill. And she may surprise me…but I’m not holding my breath. I’m gonna lose my shit…already losing my shit but I’ve got work and I can’t call out and I’m not sure how well I’m going to be able to keep it together. We love you Little Lanfear, and hope that you somehow have a miraculous recovery, but, if not, we hope your passing is as painless as possible, and that you have a great time with your mom and sister in the mousie afterlife.

So, I have a confession (that should come as no surprise to anyone who knows be at least somewhat well): I love comic books. Like, to an almost frightening degree.
One of my favorite characters is Batgirl. What’s not to love? Strong, young, independent girlie who isn’t drawn completely ridiculous(Usually, anyways…there are always the ridiculous outliers, but most of them are okay). She’s got stuff going on in her life (especially the current Batgirl…she was recently paralyzed, her mom came back into her life…I haven’t read the new issue yet, no one spoiler me!) Good female superheroes are hard to find these days. Look at the reboot of Starfire, if you don’t believe me. And even more, she’s currently being written by my favorite female comic book writer Gail Simone, so of course I have to get it! Gotta support the female characters and writers I want. Vote with your dollar. All that jazz. Hope DC eventually knocks off their crap…
I also need a new pair of shoes, because my current pair is a $15 pair I bought at payless a few months ago because the ones I had were falling apart and I needed some cheap shoes to do me for work until I was able to afford another pair..
Then I found these:
Batgirl converse
The picture links to the site where they’re being sold. And you’ll likely see the only thing preventing me from buying them: The $60 price tag.
But I really really want them. They’ll last a lot longer than my current shoes (Almost any shoes will outlive my current shoes. But I had a pair of converse once. They lasted for a long time. I think I outgrew them, actually..) And every time I looked at my shoes, my heart would leap with glee. Not only does a badass like Batgirl exist, but she would be on my shoes, looking at me, telling me that I too could kick some ass, if only I set my mind to it….
Anyone want to randomly buy these for me? I’d love you forever. I’d buy them myself, but I’ve really got to save money for going back to school. Who knows what the aid situation will be, or if I’ll be able to transfer jobs if necessary, or anything like that. Buying $60 shoes is not conducive to saving money for school. Not actually expecting anyone to take me up on that offer, but it’s worth a shot. I really REALLY want these shoes. Really really REALLY REALLY want these shoes. And I’m not the type that gets all worked up about shoes all that often….
More interesting post to come later tonight! I promise! I just need to somehow distract myself enough to not buy these shoes….

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